I own nothing.
Patch ran as soon as he was out of sight from the distribution center and the other newsies. He wouldn't let them see him cry, he told himself. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't cry, he wasn't going to...
But he couldn't help it. The tears were streaming down his face; he didn't try to wipe them away for he knew they would just keep coming. Without even thinking about it, he felt his feet taking him to the alley. He was climbing the ladder, then running over to the rolled up carpet and collapsing on it. The wind was blowing hard; he was cold but he barely felt it.
How could he do this to him? Patch was shocked. He had known that the man was fighting, struggling to be free, and it had seemed he was winning, too. Until he took Patch's money. Why? Why?
He didn't know how long he was up there. But when he finally crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down into the street, there were not many people around. It wasn't that late, so it was probably around lunch time. He could see some boys talking in front of a building, and he recognized a few of the faces. There was Jack, and Blink, and Crutchie... Suddenly, just like that, Jack looked up at Patch's little area on the roof. Patch ducked his head, but he knew Jack had seen him.
When he looked up again, Jack had said something to the other boys and was heading over. The others were walking off.
Patch hoped his eyes weren't still red.
Jack's head appeared over the edge. "Shoulda looked up here in da foist place," he commented, pulling himself up. He walked over and sat next to Patch on the carpet. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Jack shot him a sidelong glance. "I been lookin' ev'rywhere for ya," he said awkwardly. It wasn't really in his nature to be worried about someone, much less admit it.
"Hmm," was all Patch said, staring off into space. His nose was running, and he wiped his arm across it. It didn't help.
Jack just stared. He had thought that Patch never stopped smiling. He had never seen him shed a single tear, much less sob like he had been earlier. Of course, Jack had lost sight of him soon after he walked out of the gate, but he had seen the small Irish boy's shoulders shaking as he ran. Jack had hardly ever seen him be angry, either. Ocasionally he would snap at some one, but Jack had never seen such a fury as crossed his face that morning.
But Patch didn't seem to be angry now. But he definetly wasn't happy, either. Then again, he didn't seem sad. No, he seemed... resigned? Whatever had happened that morning, he seemed to have accepted it. Jack opened his mouth to ask exactly what that was.
However, before he could say anything, Patch started talking. He hadn't been looking at Jack, but he seemed to have been expecting it. "I can'na tell ye, Jack," he said softly.
"Why not?" Jack was worried about his little friend.
Patch didn't answer for several moments. When he spoke, he seemed to be choosing his words with care. "Because nobody can know. It'sa secret." He sounded sad.
Jack looked at him. The poor kid, he seemed to be fighting tears again. Jack sighed. He would let it go for now, but he would find out soon.